Yes, we are back up and running — and well ahead of the rather pessimistic schedule that had been issued by the power company.
Thanks to all the heroes who worked so tirelessly through the storm and beyond, and are still going strong to finish the job.
And posthumous thanks to Benjamin Franklin for foolishly going out in that thunderstorm; to Thomas Edison for the electric light bulb; and to Willis Carrier, who brought the world air-conditioning in 1902.
Our inconvenience was nothing compared to what a lot of folks are going through as a result of Hurricane Helene. My best wishes to them for a speedy return to their normal lives.
The hero of the day is my son Matthew, who — despite the continuing absence of electricity — managed to get our wi-fi up this afternoon. He is the IT guy’s IT guy!
Yeah . . . that’s him, all right.
But since we’re still operating on limited power from the generator, on which we’re able to plug in a fan and charge our electronics, I don’t want to waste my battery charge, and will keep this short.
Today brought distressing news — aside from the aftermath of Hurricane Helene in the southeastern U.S. — of the trial of a criminal case being brought against a 72-year-old American accused of fighting as a mercenary for Ukraine, according to Russia’s RIA state news agency.
72 years old!!
Details are still sketchy, but Stephen James Hubbard, a Michigan native, has apparently been living in the city of Izyum, Ukraine, since 2014. According to a woman identifying herself on Facebook as Hubbard’s sister (who could not be reached for comment), he was “kidnapped up in the Ukraine” nearly three years ago. [Lucy Papachristou, Reuters, September 27, 2024.]
According to Russian news source Izvestia, a court prosecutor said Hubbard had been paid $1,000 to sign a contract with a Ukrainian territorial defense unit in Izyum in February of 2022, and was captured by Russian forces just two months later. [Id.] The charges against him could bring a sentence of seven to fifteen years.
Moscow City Court: Those Are, Ironically, the Scales of Justice
The U.S. Embassy in Moscow said it was aware of the detention of an American citizen, but made no further comment. The Ukrainian Foreign Ministry could not be reached for comment, nor could an attorney for Hubbard. [Id.]
The Moscow court website indicates a hearing scheduled for October 3rd on Hubbard’s case. Perhaps we’ll have more information then. In the meantime, Stephen James Hubbard joins the eight others on our list of American hostages in Russian prisons.
This Cold War mentality is the last thing the world needs . . . but we appear to be stuck with it for now.
These are screen shots from a news report today of hurricane damage in Florida, and even one in Peachtree Creek, Georgia, and another in North Carolina. And I’ve been complaining about being bored?
Second full day of no electricity, and I’m already beginning to crack. My phone is my only means of communication with the outside world, but I can’t type fast enough to write anything meaningful on it. (As the saying goes, I’m all thumbs.)
Today’s news brought five important stories, and the frustration of being unable to comment on them is unbearable.
(I thought a primal scream might be in order here.)
I’m going to start writing now, the old-fashioned way — pen and paper — and pray the power comes back before the news is too old to matter.
And I mean that literally: We have now been without electricity in the Savannah area for 23 hours, with no end in sight. And that leaves you feeling . . . well, powerless.
We have a generator that keeps the kitchen in operation, and allows us to charge our phones, but that’s about all. And we were fortunate not to have sustained any damage to the house or cars. But everything is shut down while the crews work to clear the roads of debris and repair the downed power lines.
And boredom is setting in — big time. No wi-fi, so no news, no TV, no anything. Sigh!
And that damned song keeps running through my mind — “That’s the night the lights went out in Georgia.” Aargghhh!
So no fun stuff from me for now, and no comments on the world’s foibles. Maybe this afternoon I’ll actually go for a long walk, instead of being glued to my iPad as usual. What a radical thought!
Best of luck to all those who were hit really hard by this monster. Mother Nature can be a tough mother!
Try sitting in a hot, humid house, with no electricity, everyone out of conversation, praying for the lights and the wi-fi to come back. Best to keep the windows shut, because it’s 90 degrees outside. Just enough juice from the small generator to run the kitchen and keep the food from spoiling (thank goodness for that, anyway).
Candlelight is lovely, but not when it’s your only source of light. There are a couple of flashlights, but it’s hard to hold one of those and a book at the same time. And my iPad’s battery is down to 44%. Gotta hurry. What to do when that runs out?
And we didn’t get the worst of it, here in southern Georgia. I can’t imagine what the poor folks who got slammed with the full force of Hurricane Helene in Florida are going through right now. My biggest problem is boredom.
So I’m using a little of my battery power to write to you good readers out there, just to have someone else to talk to, and to let the world know what’s happening here.
It feels like 50 years ago — ancient times, now — when you made your own entertainment without the aid of FB friends and chatbots. It’s a lost art, and I miss it.
So, until the electricity gods give us back our power, it’s me . . .
No, we did not float away or blow away during the night.
Thank you — we’re very excited too.
Unfortunately, a lot of people in the direct path of Hurricane Helene weren’t as lucky, and I wish them all a speedy recovery.
We had on-and-off rain, lots of wind, and the power has been out since around 1:00 a.m. (Eastern time). No air-conditioning, and I slept with two little flashlights and a package of AAA batteries next to my bed. Altogether, a survivable outcome.
However, early a.m. messages from our county advise dangerous road conditions, downed power lines, lots of debris, etc. So no idea yet when power will be back on. I’d better save my battery and sign off now.
We’re still better off than a lot of others, so no complaints.
That’s the U.S. State of Georgia — the one Donald Trump was talking about when he told the people to get out and vote, but showed a picture of the Republic of Georgia instead.
But that’s irrelevant. There’s a hurricane a-comin’, and she’s a beaut.
I’m writing this on Thursday evening, but probably won’t publish it until after midnight Friday, just before turning in for the night and trying to sleep. Helene is about to hit Apalachicola, Florida, as a category 4 storm, and should head north/northwest from there. We are located well east of the projected track of Helene’s eye, about 35 miles northwest of Savannah, Georgia; but the effects are widespread, and we’re already getting heavy rain, with thunderstorms and possible tornados forecast for later tonight.
We’re far enough inland that we don’t get the storm surges from the ocean. But there are lots of rivers and creeks nearby, and some of them tend to flood every time it drizzles. Since this area is already built on swampland (don’t ask me why they did that), there isn’t room underground to absorb a whole lot of rain water, so it just pools wherever it can — on roads, in people’s yards, in parking lots, on flat roofs, mixing with the chlorinated water in swimming pools and overflowing . . . wherever.
Hey, have I mentioned that I’m not really fond of the climate here?
I was born a Yankee. Originally from New Hampshire, we lived there and in Rhode Island, then back in New Hampshire, until moving to the Washington, D.C. area when I was 13. I thought that was pretty far south at the time. Now when I tell folks I’m from D.C., they say, “Oh, a Yankee!” So I tell them that while I worked in the city, I actually lived in the suburbs of Northern Virginia. It’s below the Mason-Dixon Line. But to the locals here in Georgia, that’s still Yankee territory. It’s all relative.
Now, in all fairness, the climate in Washington isn’t the greatest either — especially in the summer. It’s hot and humid (though usually about ten degrees cooler than here). But it does have four seasons. While fall arrives a little later than in New Hampshire, it does show up, and the trees do change color when the nights turn chilly.
Here in Georgia, spring and fall each last about three days. I really miss the cherry blossoms around the Tidal Basin in April, and snuggling into the sweaters and vests in October.
I’m truly not crazy about the climate here, you know.
Winter usually brings at least one or two good snow events to the D.C. area. Of course, they play havoc with the traffic, but there’s nothing prettier than the National Mall — stretching west to east from the Washington Monument, past the Lincoln Memorial, and on to the U.S. Capitol — covered in snow.
They don’t know snow in Georgia. I’m told it did snow once, about five or six years ago. All hell broke loose, of course, but it melted within a day or two. They still talk about it a lot . . . the way San Franciscans talk about the 1906 earthquake.
But mostly what gets to me are the extremes. Washington doesn’t get a lot of hurricanes, and the ones that do hit there are generally already on the downslide. I recall a time when tornados were unheard-of there. Climate change has brought a few to the area, but most of the tornado watches just fizzle out. Thunderstorms are common in the summer, but if you don’t stand under a tree or out in the middle of a golf course with a hunk of metal in your hand, you should be just fine.
Here, every storm — and they’re almost a daily event in the summer — brings with it a good chance of a tornado or two. And the heat? Well, let’s just say that no one has to pay to have a sauna built into their home; every home is already in one gigantic, outdoor sauna.
Have I mentioned yet that I really, really hate the climate here? I have? Too bad.
Anyway, this will probably be my only posting on Friday’s blog; I’ll be busy making sure my emergency pack contains everything I’ll need while we wait for the helicopter to come pick us up from the roof as the house floats down I-95.
But I’ll be back in touch as soon as I can recharge my phone. Which reminds me: Did I pack that charger?
Gotta run now . . .
Brendochka 9/27/24
P.S. In case I forgot to mention it, about the climate here . . . Yeah, yeah, I know. Enough already.
Just lost power — 11:40 p.m. Thursday. Not in direct path, but even the outer fringes are pretty strong here in southern Georgia. May as well turn in early and save batteries. Good night, all, and stay safe.
Sounds like the title of a Carl Reiner sequel to “The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming,” doesn’t it?
I wish it were. But unfortunately, it’s more like this:
“ . . . or else!”
It’s the Russians again, all right; but it’s not funny. It’s the Cold War, 21st Century version. And it’s already a hot war in Ukraine, and threatening to spread. Because Vladimir Putin won’t be satisfied with just Ukraine.
Ignoring the fact — so obvious to everyone in the world above the age of three — that it was he who invaded Ukraine . . . not once, but twice, in 2014 and 2022 . . . he very quickly turned the West’s unexpected defensive support of Ukraine on its head, characterizing it as an offensive move against Russia.
And when his usual blustering didn’t frighten the NATO members into submission, he dragged out the old nuclear threat. And at first the world basically said, “Really? Again?”
“Yeah . . . so what’s new?”
Well, now he’s taken it a step further. Russia’s existing protocol on the use of nuclear weapons, established in 2020, provides for such use in the event of a nuclear attack by an enemy or a conventional attack “when the very existence of the state is in jeopardy.” [Al Jazeera, September 26, 2024.]
But now, Putin says, a revision to the doctrine is being considered that would provide for clearer, more specific conditions for the use of nuclear weapons:
“Conditions for Russia’s move to use nuclear weapons are clearly stated [in the revisions]. We will consider such a possibility when we receive reliable information about a massive launch of air and space attack assets and them crossing our state border. . . [specifically citing] strategic and tactical aircraft, cruise missiles, drones, hypersonic and other flying vehicles.” [Id.]
In other words, stay out of our yard, or we’ll nuke your house.
And now, with the war in Ukraine in its third year, and neighboring countries increasingly on alert, NATO has begun planning for the possible need to transport large numbers of wounded troops in the event of a war with Russia, potentially by way of hospital trains if air evacuations become unfeasible. [Sabine Siebold, Reuters, September 25, 2024.]
NATO has been working toward improving its ability to “deter and defend against any Russian assault” since the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine. [Id.] Those preparations are now being ramped up in light of the Kremlin’s increased level of threats.
It’s beginning to feel more and more like sixty years ago. And it doesn’t feel good.
The Blog About Everything … and Sometimes Nothing 